


I Know The Sound Of Your Voice

by nightmaresinwintah



Category: One Direction
Genre: And blowjobs, I really, M/M, alright so Harry and Louis have a one night stand that ends up not being a one night stand, and Louis decides that Harry's a fucking angel and he wants to do his art school project on him, and gives Louis flowers and poetry, and there's sex all through it so yeah, because Harry decides to woo Louis, but that's not the most important part!, domestic crap too, handjobs, like anon but Louis knows it's him because he's really not that sneaky, lots of painting, really don't know what this is, sex and all that, so yeah Louis paints Harry and Harry is an angel, the most important part is the /feelings/, who knows - Freeform, with poetry and flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:59:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmaresinwintah/pseuds/nightmaresinwintah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one night stand that turns out to not be a one night stand. </p><p>Or</p><p>The one where Louis paints Harry and Harry woos Louis with flowers and poetry. </p><p>(Title from The Sound by The 1975)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know The Sound Of Your Voice

**Author's Note:**

> ??????????? I don't know. I sat in bed and wrote this. I don't know where it came from but it's going here. I'm sorry? Anyways, here's 5690 words of stuff.

He keeps seeing him.  _ Everywhere.  _ Louis was simply out for the night, Liam dragging him along to the clubs because he was apparently too stressed with the art project that was due in three weeks. Of course he was stressed! He had so much to do in so little time, and now he was in a club downing whatever drink Liam handed him and dancing with whoever came up to him. He was content in just minding his own business - he had no thought to take anyone home or be taken home - but there he was again. 

He was tall and had a head full of chocolate brown curls. He was lanky but muscular in a way that suggested serious workouts. Louis wanted to lick his skin. It’s like he was hyper-aware of the man, his skin tingling whenever he was within a few meters of him. But the man never came closer than that, leaving Louis to turn to whoever was there, frowning with confusion. It’s like every time he came close, Louis could  _ hear  _ him. Which was weird, right?

The man was  _ beautiful,  _ and Louis really, really wanted to learn more about him. So maybe he did want to pull tonight. He pulls away from his dance partner - he doesn’t even know what they look like - and stumbles over to where Liam’s getting more drinks. 

“Li.” He mumbles, draping himself over Liam’s shoulders. 

Liam laughs, offering one of the drinks to Louis, who smiles and presses a sloppy, drunk kiss to his friend’s cheek and takes the drink. “Yeah, Louis?” Liam asks, laughing again as Louis holds a finger up and takes a long sip of his drink. 

“Alright, I’m going to try pull.” He informs Liam, who nods and raises an eyebrow. 

“Any particular boy in mind?” 

Louis somehow knows exactly where he is, and points at the man with the angel curls. “Him.” He says slowly, smiling into his glass of who knows what. He thinks it’s beer. Who knows.

Liam laughs again, loud and unapologetic. “Have fun, Lou. See you in the morning. Or afternoon.” He snickers, and Louis begins walking towards the man, swaying his hips a little. 

The night kind of dissolves after that, Louis remembers holding onto people and laughing, throwing his head back and showing off his neck maybe a little too obviously. He remembers eventually reaching the angel (he started referring to him as that in his mind at some point) and introducing himself, asking the angel’s name. 

It’s a blur from then on, hands everywhere, lips pressing into skin and words dissolving into moans as they stumble out of the club, so turned on from dancing (well, grinding) that they can barely decide who’s place to go back to. Somehow they decide on Louis’ because apparently it’s closer, and they sober up a little on the walk to Louis’ but it doesn’t last long when the angel presses Louis against his own front door and practically devours him.

Louis eventually gets them both inside and on a bed, and the rest of the night is a haze of  _ sex sex sex.  _ Hands everywhere, lips everywhere, tongues everywhere. And it’s  _ so good.  _ Louis remembers basically screaming as he comes, the angel following him a second after. They collapse into the sheets, Louis murmuring out that the angel can stay the night as long as he doesn’t murder him. 

_ ///////////////////////// _

When he wakes up he feels like he’s on fire. But it’s a slow burn, sort of nice. There’s an arm draped over his waist and lips pressed into his shoulder and a halo of curls on his pillow. And then Louis smiles, because even though he can’t remember the angel’s name, he remembers a lot of the night. 

Carefully, he peels one of the blankets off to get rid of most of the heat, and thinks that isn’t the morning after supposed to be weird? Not full of cuddles. Who knows, maybe this man really is an angel. 

Louis studies the angel’s face while he waits for him to wake up, taking in the sharp angles and flushed cheek and long eyelashes. Louis commits the sleeping face to memory, and starts running his finger along the angel’s shoulder, watching the goosebumbs that raise on his skin with a smile. 

Eventually, when the shadows in the room have shifted and the clock has clicked to 10:34, the angel shifts, his legs moving first before he moves his head and blinks his eyes open, peering out from behind where he’s thrown an arm over his face at Louis. 

“Morning.” Louis murmurs, not sure how this goes. It feels different somehow, with him. 

“Mornin.” The angel rasps, then gives a slow grin. “Thank’s for letting me stay the night.”

“Thanks for the night.” Louis grins back, and why isn’t this awkward? It’s supposed to be awkward, right? 

The angel closes his eyes for a moment before sighing and sitting up, holding the sheet around his waist and looking down at Louis. “I suppose I better head off.” He says.

Louis shrugs. “You could stay for breakfast, I’m not fazed. But I’m not much of a cook.” He replies, wanting to put off the leaving part or this for as long as possible for some reason. 

The angel studies him for a small while before smiling and nodding. “Yeah, okay.” He pauses, looking like he wants to say something else, chewing on his bottom lip. “Louis...Right?”

Louis grins and nods. “Yup. Though I’d be surprised if you didn’t remember my name from the way you were screaming it last night.” He holds a serious face for all of two seconds before erupting into a fit of cackles. 

The angel stares at him for a moment before laughing along, putting his head in his hands. “That was fuckin’ horrible, I hope you know.” 

Louis stops laughing and giggles, before sitting up as well and grabbing a pair of sweats from the ground. He pulls them on and then looks around for a moment, ignoring the fact that he doesn’t know the angel’s name. “Hold up, I’m gonna go grab some trousers for you from me flatmates room, you won’t fit any of mine.” He says and walks out after smiling back at the angel.

The man on his bed nods and waits, a small smile on his face. Louis grabs a pair of trackies and heads back to his room - he’s extremely thankful that they made it into Louis’ room and not Liam’s - with the knowledge that Liam isn’t in the flat and will need to figure out where he is at some point, but for now he’s got an angel in his bed and that becomes the only thing on his mind. 

“Do you want pants as well?” Louis asks when he hands over the trackies. 

The angel shakes his head no. “I’ll use my own, not sure your flatmate would appreciate me being bare in his trousers.” He laughs.

Louis’ eyes crinkles as he grins at him. When he’s dressed, the angel looks expectantly at Louis who beckons him to follow. Louis walks out of the room before pausing and looking back at the angel who’s frozen, staring at the countless canvas’ and sketchbooks and random pages of A2 that are laying scattered among a bunch of art supplies in the corner of Louis’ room. 

“You...Paint? And draw?” He asks softly, his voice full of some kind of unrecognisable emotion.

Louis frowns and nods slowly, watching as the angel walks over to one particular canvas that is just a bunch of colours all thrown together, making up swirls of coloured smoke and emotions that Louis was feeling that day. 

“Uh, yeah.” Louis says when the angel doesn’t see his nod. “Also, I can’t believe I forgot your name, but.” 

The angel looks up and his face is full of amusement. “It’s Harry.” He replies before looking back down at the painting. “These are amazing.” His voice is full of wonder.

“Um.” Louis doesn’t know what to say. 

Harry looks up and his eyes are shining with some form of emotion. “Uh, I know this is probably a bit sudden but I just remembered I have something on in an hour so I’ve got to rush.” He says, apologetic. 

Louis just nods. “Yeah, yeah. That’s fine, of course. I’ll...Walk you out?” He says it like a question.

Harry simply grabs all his things from where they’re laying around the room, replacing Liam’s trackies for his own jeans. He checks his phone and looks slightly distressed, before he smiles and bends down and kisses Louis’ cheek. Louis sucks in a surprised breath, blinking up at Harry who looks like a fucking angel. Always looks like a fucking angel. 

“Let’s do this again sometime.” Harry murmurs. 

Louis nods dumbly, and walks Harry out. He forgets to ask for his phone number. 

_ ////////////////// _

Liam eventually comes home, walking in through the door and only half clothed, his zipper undone and his shirt nowhere to be seen. His eyes have prominent bags under them and he looks slightly washed out but he’s grinning. “Hi, Lou.” He greets.

Louis raises an eyebrow from where he’s sitting on the couch with an easel in front of him and a paintbrush in his hands. He’s painting Harry and he’s not ashamed of it. 

“Morning, Liam. Where’d you end up last night?” He asks. 

Liam shrugs, coming to sit next to Louis, looking at the slowly forming face. It’s just a jaw at the moment, the pale, creamy colour amplified by the shadows underneath the jaw and plunging into the lines of the neck. It’s based with cold colours and Louis is trying really hard to capture the fact that Harry is an angel. He’s going to add specks of gold because it will be perfect. 

“Somewhere in the building actually. Picked up the most  _ beautiful  _ guy, Louis. You wouldn’t believe he’s real. I’m so blessed. And he lives in the building.” Liam studies Louis’ slow brush strokes for a little while longer before leaning back against the couch and sighing happily. 

“And where’d your shirt end up?” Louis wonders out loud, glancing at his friend’s bare chest. 

Liam closes his eyes. “Don’t know. Don’t care, actually.” 

Louis snorts and dips his paintbrush in white, going over the line of the jaw again, Harry’s sleeping face the only picture in his mind. He moves up to where he’s draw an outline of the eyes and smiles, reaching for the perfect eyelid colour he’d made up. 

“Who’re you painting?” Liam eventually asks. 

Louis ignores him for a moment as he changes paintbrushes, picking the smallest one and focussing as he starts on the eyelid, every now and then adding in a swipe of blue. He extends the colour up, leaving the blue behind as he moves the skin colour towards the eyebrow. He adds shadows, making the dip in the face where the eye is and then continues perfecting the colours. 

“An angel.” Is all he replies with. 

Liam nods, his eyes still closed. “Is it going to be part of the collection?” 

“Maybe.” Louis is forming a whole new idea in his mind. 

The art project for the art school he attends is very simple. Paint something, draw something, sketch something. Three pieces of art, and what you paint and draw and sketch is of your choosing. Everything must have a meaning behind it though, and the art must come from the heart. Louis’d been having immense trouble finding what his subject would be, but now maybe…

Maybe he’d found what he needed to do. 

“Don’t fall asleep on the couch, you’ll get a bad back like you always do.” Louis reminds Liam, pausing in his painting to glance at his friend. 

Liam groans but opens his eyes and stands up, and stumbles to his room, leaving the door open. Louis can hear him collapse onto his bed. He starts snoring five minutes after. Louis keeps painting.

_ ////////////////// _

It’s sometime around five that Louis finally gives into his growling stomach and gets up to make toast when there’s a knock on the door. He frowns at the peanut butter in his hands before putting it down and walking over to the door, pausing as he realises that his hands are covered in paint and he has no shirt on and he’s pretty sure he’s got paint on his chest too. Somehow. 

He shrugs and opens the door, blinking at the empty hallway in front of him. There’s no one there, but there is a flower on the floor and a note attached to it. He frowns before bending down and picking it up, looking around before stepping back and closing the door, taking the flower and the note with him. He walks back over to the kitchen to where his toast has popped and takes the two pieces out of the toaster, putting them on a plate. 

He studies the flower for a short moment before he sets it down and opens the note. It’s addressed to him and there’s a fucking poem.

_ Louis. _

_ When my arms wrap you round I press _

_ My heart upon the loveliness _

_ That has long faded from the world _

_ The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled  _

And. What the fuck? 

Louis frowns down at the piece of paper that has no signature on it. He sighs and puts it beside the flower, then puts peanut butter on his toast and returns to his painting. He can’t deal with this right now. 

Liam comes out of his room an hour later when Louis’ still painting, using the tiniest brush to ass perfect eyelashes to the nearly completed face. He’s got to do the hair next, and then add in a frame of bed sheets around the figure, and finish where the body cuts off just under the collar bones. 

“Holy shit, Lou.” Liam’s rubbing sleep out of one eye and he’s pulled a jersey on. 

Louis looks up at him and blinks before going back to the tiny strands of hair. 

“Louis, that’s really good. You’ve got to use that for the project.” Liam continues, walking into the kitchen to find something to eat. 

Louis nods once, not caring if Liam sees him. At this point he’s on autopilot. He can’t stop painting. Liam comes and sits next to him on the couch with some left over something on a plate, eating slowly and watching as Louis paints. 

“There’s a flower on the bench.” Liam says eventually. 

“And a poem.” Louis replies, dipping his paintbrush in more golden brown. 

Liam stays silent for a little while, finishing his dinner. “Do you know who it’s from?” 

“No.” 

But Louis has an idea, and he’s not going to act on it. Instead he’s going to draw the flower with all it’s beautiful colours and ignore the poem for now. Who the fuck writes poetry nowadays anyway? Maybe it’s not even written by the person. It might just be from some famous poet. Or something. Whatever. Louis’ painting. 

“Liam.” Fuck. He’s got to look it up.

“Yeah?” Liam looks up from where he’s staring at the empty plate.

“Be a dear and go google the poem, would you?” Louis says slowly, glancing at him and putting his paintbrush in the cup of water on the coffee table. 

Liam blinks but nods, standing up and walking over to the kitchen, putting his plate in the sink before opening the laptop on the counter and reading over the poem, typing in the words. Louis waits silently from the couch, feeling very exhausted. 

“It’s by a dude called W.B Yeats and it’s called ‘ _ He Remembers Forgotten Beauty.’ _ ” Liam reports.

“Thank you Liam.” Louis yawns. “I’m going to bed. Don’t touch my painting.” Then he stands and walks into his room, ignoring Liam’s squawk of ‘I would never!’. 

The rest of the night is occupied by sleeping. 

_ ///////////////////////// _

The next morning when Louis finally rolls out of bed he realises that he hasn’t gone food shopping in two weeks. He’s at least 90% sure Liam hasn’t either, because all they’ve got is canned fruit, a rotten banana, some jelly packets and two bread crusts. There’s some spreads which is good, and spices as well, but when do they ever use them? There might be some flour up on the top shelf but Louis never looks up there, so. 

It’s time to go food shopping. 

Louis showers first, decidedly not thinking about the note still on the counter and very determinedly washing himself, getting all the paint off. He pulls on a shirt that he’s pretty sure is clean and some pants and a pair of black jeans that are not clean, but will do. He pulls on his TOMS that he sold his soul to buy, and grabs the flat keys and his wallet. He has no idea where his phone is, and he doesn’t really care. It’s probably in one of the couch cushions.

When he opens the flat door he finds another flower and another note. He stares at them for a moment before sighing and putting them inside the flat to look at later. He really can’t deal with this right now. He needs to have breakfast. 

He walks to the food store, wondering what he’s going to buy. He thought about making a list, but since when is he ever practical? He’s not going to break tradition now. 

He grabs a basket because if he got a trolley he’d spend too much. He grabs the important things first like bread and more bread and some chips before he starts looking at the vegetables and fruit with a frown on his face. 

That’s when he hears him. He’s not even saying anything, he’s just kind of behind Louis, probably looking at the bananas. Louis turns around, and yep. Harry’s standing there looking at the bananas.  

Louis takes a step back to go find the milk and cereal when Harry looks up and blinks in surprise before grinning massively. 

“Oh fuck.” Louis is so fucked.

This man is a fucking angel and Louis can’t help it if he’s feeling things, okay? 

“Louis!” Harry exclaims, taking two steps forward to they’re the appropriate distance apart to talk at a reasonable tone in a food store. 

What’s happened in Louis’ head? He needs to sleep more. “Hi, Harry.” Louis smiles, unable to help it. 

Harry grins wider, if that’s even possible. “How’s everything?” He asks, like they hadn’t seen (and met) each other yesterday. 

Louis shrugs, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “Good, I guess. I’ve just been painting, what about you?” He feels obligated to ask. Why does this feel so weird? But it also feels like he’s standing in the sun.

“Good! I got to that thing on time and home for dinner, so. It was good. Slept alright.” Harry is smiling very wide.

Louis raises an eyebrow, wondering if it’d be rude to just walk away? Probably. “What was the thing?” He asks, instead of turning and running. 

“A poetry reading!” Harry says, studying Louis’ face before looking back at the bananas and choosing a bunch that apparently makes the cut. 

Louis’ heart thuds and his knees nearly give out. Oh, for fuck sakes. It doesn’t mean that the notes were Harry, it just makes it seem like it was him. Which. Why would he even do that? So clearly it wasn’t. Right? Louis is so tired. “Okay, cool.” Louis nods, and glances away. “I should get back to shopping.” 

Harry nods seriously. “It is quite important.” He agrees, then looks down at Louis with a question in his eyes. 

Louis narrows his eyes nervously. “What?” 

“Do you want to, like, hang out?” Harry asks, smiling angelically.

Louis sighs, closing his eyes and dropping his head. “Yeah.” He says, and looks at Harry who looks confused at his reaction. So he puts on a real smile, and shrugs. “Why not? I’ll finish me shopping and meet you out front?”

Harry nods, seeming satisfied, and then tails Louis around the shop as Louis picks out the food he reckons him and Liam need. And. Well. It isn’t supposed to be like this, is it? They fall into a rhythm so easily, like they’ve been doing this for years and years and years. They just fit together. They  _ click.  _ Louis is slowly, slowly drowning in despair, even though this is possibly potentially a good thing. 

When Louis’ done and they both pay for their food, Louis makes Harry come with him to drop his stuff at his flat before they head to Harry’s. Thinking of the massive painting in the lounge of Harry, Louis makes Harry wait outside while he drops everything inside and yells and Liam to put the milk in the fridge. He gets a ‘where the fuck are you going?’ in response that Louis takes as ‘yeah sure anything you want honey darling!’. 

“So. Where are we going?” Louis asks, pocketing his keys and turning to look at Harry, who’s looking down at him, smiling with crinkles and mirth in his eyes. 

“My flat. C’mon.” Harry replies, and holds his hand out to Louis. 

Louis looks at it for a total of ten long seconds before he takes it, and then Harry leads him down the hallway and up some stairs and then they’re at flat number 17. Louis looks at Harry and frowns. 

“You live in the same building as me?” He states, even if it is said like a question. 

Harry nods and unlocks the door, leading Louis inside. Louis looks around, and the layout is the same as his and Liam’s flat, just decorated differently. And it’s full of the smell of smoke and is very dark. There are no curtains open. “Are you a vampire?” Louis asks. 

“No, Zayn’s still asleep. And Niall’s been out for the past two nights, so.” Harry leads him past the lounge and into what Louis guesses is his room.

It’s full of plants. There are no curtains. The bed is fucking  _ massive,  _ and there’s poetry all over the walls. Louis blinks a few times before he sighs and sits down on the bed. Harry smiles and follows. “What d’you wanna do?” He asks. 

“We could play a game.” Louis suggests before he can stop himself. 

Harry perks up, eyes shining. “What kind of game?” 

“Snap?” Louis says weakly. He’s already regretting this. He wants to be painting. 

But Harry thinks it’s a fucking  _ fantastic  _ idea. He gets cards out from his bedside drawer and, okay, who keeps a pack of cards in their bedside drawer? They play snap. They actually play snap, and Louis enjoys every second of hit. Harry squeals with delight every time he wins, and Louis can’t help but be endeared. 

They tire of it eventually, though, and Louis decides it’s time to get Harry’s number and go home and paint. He tells Harry as much and Harry frowns. 

“What if I come over and just sit next to you while you paint? That way we can still hang out but we can get things done. I need to write and read a bit too, so it’s perfect!” He looks so happy with his idea that Louis sighs and says yes.

When they get back to Louis’ flat, Liam’s unpacked the groceries and is standing in the kitchen, looking at a box of condoms with a frown on his face. Louis sighs and leads Harry over to the couch, then freezes when he remembers what on the canvas. 

“Don’t...Laugh, okay?” He warns Harry, who frowns. 

“Why would I? I know your paintings are, like, incredibly good.” He says. 

Louis sighs and sits down on the couch, Harry eagerly following. Harry’s brought along what looks like a worn journal and three books, one that Louis nearly had a heart attack at when he saw it was by W.B Yeats. 

“Louis where do you want me to put the condoms?” Liam calls from the kitchen, and Louis bites back a snarky reply of ‘up your fucking arse, twat, where do you think?’

“Just throw them on my bed, thanks, Li.” He says instead, and picks up his paint brush and tray of paints and begins mixing a hair colour. 

He glances at Harry, who is staring at the canvas with his jaw hanging open. 

“Um, Harry?” Louis tries. 

“That’s me.” Harry says, awe in his voice. 

“Uh, yeah. I can, like, not, if you’d prefer?” Louis’ voice is weak and he really hopes Harry doesn’t want him to get rid of it because then he’d have to find something else for the project and that would really suck.

Harry shakes his head and looks at Louis, eyes shining brightly. “Can I suck you off?” He asks.

Louis chokes, because what the fuck? “Um?” He squeaks.

“I wanna say thank you. It’s beautiful, Louis, seriously.” Harry’s voice is a little breathy. 

Louis thinks he nods, because Harry moves towards him eagerly and Louis just has enough time to put the paints and brush down before Harry is pressing him into the couch and undoing his zipper and pressing his mouth to the embarrassing bulge that’s already becoming hard in Louis’ pants. 

“Okay!” Liam exclaims from somewhere in the flat, and Louis can hear him walking away and shutting a door. 

He doesn’t really care, Liam’s seen worse. 

Louis gasps as Harry’s tongue darts out and wets his pants, lapping at his dick through the cotton. “Jesus.” Louis grits out, tilting his head back when Harry pulls his dick out and presses  a tiny kiss to the head. 

Harry’s lips wrap around the head very delicately, like he’s dealing with something very precious. Louis’ already squirming, hates being teased. Harry flicks his tongue along the slit and then sinks down a bit, hollowing his cheeks and flattening his tongue. He pulls off again, and licks a broad stripe up the throbbing vein underneath Louis’ dick, and Louis bucks up a little, letting out a little groan. 

Harry giggles and then takes Louis’ dick back into his mouth, sucking him down halfway and swallowing around him in a way that sends white hot pleasure right through Louis’ entire body. He’s fully hard now, and Harry’s jerking the rest of his dick that’s not in his mouth slowly, using his other hand to play with Louis’ balls. 

Harry hums around Louis’ dick and then relaxes his throat, sinking a bit lower. Louis is dying. He’d be happy if he dies right now. No he wouldn’t. He lifts his head, looking down at Harry and he really can’t believe this is happening because, what? 

“You’re a fucking angel, Harry. You’re not real.” Louis groans, and Harry laughs around his dick, causing Louis’ eyes to roll back and his head to drop back against the couch. 

Harry sinks even lower as his throat gets used to the heavy feel of Louis’ dick, and is he even breathing? He pulls off slowly, and wraps his lips just around the head again, pumping his fist along the rest of his dick. 

“Baby.” Louis gasps, heat coiling in his abdomen. 

Harry gives a little whine at the name and shifts his hips on the couch, and of course he’s getting hard by this. He sinks his head down, and gets all the way, pretty pink lips stretched around Louis’ dick and his nose touching Louis’ abdomen and his eyes watering. He looks proud. He hums and moves his tongue, and that’s fucking it. 

Louis tugs at his hair urgently. “Baby, I’m gonna come.” He warns, head swimming. 

Harry stays put stubbornly, flattening his tongue and groaning as Louis tugs at his hair again, and then Louis fucking  _ comes.  _ And Harry just takes it, Louis’ hips jutting up and he swallows around Louis’ dick, and Louis goes limp, whimpering slightly. 

“Jesus fuck, baby.” He breathes. 

Harry pulls off, wiping at his mouth, grinning and looking very pleased with himself. Louis hums, a bit spaced out, and then sits up, blinking at Harry slowly. Harry giggles. The fucking angel giggles, and Louis is quite a bit gone. 

“Was it good?” Harry asks, crawling up Louis’ body, arms on either side of his shoulders, green eyes boring down into Louis’.

Louis just smirks and leans up, pressing his lips to Harry’s while his hands undo Harry’s zipper and he reaches in and takes his dick out - which is quite hard - and starts jerking him, wetting his hand with Harry’s precome and making the slide  smoother. Harry gasps into Louis’ mouth and his hips stutter down to meet Louis’ hand, his eyelids fluttering. Louis thinks he looks beautiful like this and he should probably trap Harry here forever. 

“So, so good, baby.” Louis croons, and Harry moans at the name, his face pressed into Louis’ neck as he ruts down into Louis’ hand. 

Louis swipes his thumb over the head of Harry’s dick, then presses his thumb along the base of it, eliciting a high pitched whine from the angel falling apart on top of him. Harry’s arms are shaking. “Gonna come for me?” Louis murmurs, moving his hand faster. 

Harry whimpers and his hips stutter, before he picks up his rhythm again, and digs his teeth into Louis’ neck, biting down and then sucking a love bite there. Louis gasps, squeezing Harry’s dick in answer, which makes Harry’s arms collapse, and their chests are pressed together and Harry’s arse is in the air so Louis still has room to jerk him off, and this is so, so hot. 

Louis feels it when Harry starts losing his rhythm again and he knows he’s going to come very soon. “Come for me, baby.” Louis rasps, and Harry’s answering whine is as smooth as silk as he comes, hips thrusting forwards.

Louis jerks him through it, smiling as Harry comes down and then huffs, collapsing fully onto Louis, who is content to just kind of lay there being crushed. It’s all very good. 

Harry looks up eventually, cheeks flushed and eyes a little hazy. “Wow.” He rumbles, his voice wrecked.

Louis hums in answer, and looks over at the clock on the wall. “Is it early enough for a nap?” He wonders out loud. 

He feels Harry nod against his chest, and Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s lips, even if it hurts his neck to do it. Harry smiles into it, and then rests his head on Louis’ chest and sighs. Louis laughs quietly. 

“We’ve got to clean you up, love, then we can go to my bed.” He promises.

Harry opens one eyes and mumbles something, but gets up, tucking his dick away but not doing his trousers up. Louis sits up too, sitting for a bit and waiting for the head rush to clear. When he looks over at Harry, he finds him smiling at the painting. 

Louis smiles too, then takes Harry’s hand and leads him to the bathroom, chucking his own clothes in the hamper and washing Harry’s come off Harry with a cloth, before leading them both to Louis’ room. Louis undresses Harry slowly, and Harry giggles when Louis’ fingers brush against his sides softly. They crawl under the sheets together, and it’s not awkward when they kind of just fall into each other’s arms and drift to sleep at one in the afternoon.

_ //////////////////////// _

Waking up is slow, and it’s warm. Harry is already awake, Louis can feel his thumb rubbing the skin on his hip, and his other hand slowly jerking his dick. He moans, pressing his arse back against Harry’s dick, which is very hard, and then tilting his head back and clutching at his pillow. 

Harry gets him off while getting himself off by rubbing against Louis’ arse, his dick eventually finding its way in between Louis’ bum cheeks. Louis comes when it does, and Harry’s not far behind, biting down on Louis’ neck and gasping his name. 

Louis thinks Harry has a thing about biting, and he fucking loves it. 

They both come down slowly, panting a bit, and then Louis rolls over, smiling with sleep still in his eyes. Harry giggles and kisses along Louis’ jaw, before finally capturing his lips and kissing him breathless. 

When they finally pull apart, they study each other for a little bit, just smiling. 

“What are we?” Louis eventually asks. 

“Can we be boyfriends?” Harry murmurs into Louis’ skin. 

“Yeah. Do you want dinner?” 

“Mhm.”

They eat spaghetti because apparently Louis has the ingredients and Harry can cook. Louis coaxes Liam out of his room to join them, and Liam glares at him before introducing himself to Harry and eating half the food. 

When it’s time for bed again, Harry and Louis curl into each other and fall asleep sighing each others names.

_ ///////////////// _

It goes like that for awhile, they go around to each other’s flats and have sex or just hang out, laughing and learning about each other. Louis finishes his project, his drawing being of the two flowers Harry gave him (yes, he admitted to trying to woo Louis) and his sketch being of Harry’s sleeping body in Louis’ bed, sheet tucked over his waist and the moonlight beaming in through the curtains. Louis doesn’t close his curtains much anymore - Harry likes that the light wakes him up early. 

Louis meets Zayn and Niall, and they all meet Liam, and everyone gets on splendidly. Liam and Zayn have sex. Then they announce that they’re boyfriends, and Niall laughs for a straight ten minutes before he congratulates them and forces everyone to go to the pup and get drunk of cheap beer. 

Louis aces his art project. 

Harry asks him to move in, and then decides it’d be better if he moved in with Louis and they kicked Liam out into Harry’s flat with Zayn and Niall. Niall nearly cries, and ends up moving out with his girlfriend a couple of flats down. 

It’s all extremely good, and continues to be. 

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> I need a fucking cigarette what even was this.


End file.
